


Gold-Brown

by youreyestheyglow



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Erejean Week, Fluff, M/M, happy bday eren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyestheyglow/pseuds/youreyestheyglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren helps Jean get over Marco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold-Brown

He has brighter eyes than I do.

His are molten gold, bright, a little like the sun. Mine are tawny brown, dull, dark. Dim.

Hell, maybe it’s true that eyes are the window to the soul. Somehow, even though he’s the one who watched his mom die and lost his father, he’s brighter than I am, more idealistic. He still sees hope in the world. He still wants to _see_ the world.

The only person I’ve lost is my best friend.

Maybe I shouldn’t say _only_. That’s not the right way to put it. But Marco wasn’t my mom and dad. I didn’t watch him die.

I’m not happy I wasn’t there to save him. But now, weeks after the fact, I’m grateful I didn’t have to watch him die. I have the weird feeling that if I’d seen it happen, it would’ve been imprinted on my retinas forever.

I wouldn’t want Eren to look into my eyes and see Marco dying. He doesn’t deserve that. _I_ don’t deserve that.

I suppose it’s thanks to him that I know that. That I don’t deserve to watch Marco dying forever. He told me that, told me even when I hadn’t asked him to say it. He’d lain down next to me and said it, like he knew what I was thinking, like he knew that I needed him to lie down and hold my hand and tell me I wasn’t shit. And he’d done it. And I’d looked into his eyes and they’d been bright.

The fire I’d hated for so long, for being too bright, too powerful, too hot, suddenly fit my emptiness. It burned its way inside me and stayed there, like it belonged, like I wasn’t a hopeless asshole who’d had to lose his friend before realizing any of his potential. Like I deserved his fire.

And here he is again, lying next to me, watching me like he’s waiting for something.

His fingers are tapping mine, not intertwined but not separated either. Just there. Comforting. Soothing.

Expectant?

I have no idea what he’s waiting for, but whatever it is, he seems content to wait, content to lie here with me, like he’s done for weeks now, finding time to sit with me in silence or whisper comfort to me like he’s got a window into my mind that shows him precisely the words to use to clear my mind.

His eyes are beautiful, golden and bright. Probably the symptom of his fucked-up physiology, but damn if they don’t fit him.

I move towards him unconsciously, trying to get closer, trying to lose myself in the fire-water of his eyes.

His eyes flutter closed.

“Wait –” I bite my lip against the rest of the sentence. What am I gonna do, tell him I want to stare at his eyes?

But he opens them again and grins at me. “Sorry. Not falling asleep, I promise.”

“It’s fine. You can sleep if you want. I don’t care.” I could watch him sleep forever and not get bored.

His smile flickers like a flame in a breeze, but it’s back and strong before I can even question it. “If you say so.”

His eyes close again.

I watch as his breath slowly evens out, muscles going limp, fingers going still against my palms.

He’d never know.

It’s horrible. It’s a horrible thing to do.

But he’ll never know.

You lean forward the last couple inches and brush your lips against his.

His eyes open, and you feel the blood drain from your face, but he speaks before you can apologize. “I’ve been waiting for that.”

His golden eyes shut again as you press your lips to his again. 


End file.
